


This Strange And Mournful Day (A timestamp for The Doors of Time)

by felisblanco



Series: The Doors of Time [10]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A timestamp for <a href="http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/856417.html">The Doors of Time</a>. Takes place approx. a year after the epilogue. Jensen's mother shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Strange And Mournful Day (A timestamp for The Doors of Time)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _The Mother and Child Reunion_ by Paul Simon. I’d like to state that I have actually much sympathy for Jensen’s mother. I don’t agree with her but I can understand to some degree why she did the things she did. This is however mostly written from Jared’s POV so... *shrugs*  
>  Also there are some disturbing issues addressed in this that will be explored further at a later point. I'd ask you to trust me except that always sounds iffy, doesn't it? Just remember, Jensen's head and therefor his memories don't work like other people's. That's all I'm saying for now. Unbeta'd.

They’re in the kitchen, laughing at something Jared later can’t remember. Jensen is sitting on the kitchen counter, eyes crinkling at the corners as laughter bubbles up from his chest. One foot reaches out to poke Jared in the side and Jared shimmies away with a yelp, almost dropping the wooden spoon in his hand. “No messing with the chef,” is what he’s saying when the doorbell rings and Jensen laughs out loud as he jumps off the counter and heads for the door, swatting Jared’s ass playfully as he passes. The sound of his laughter echoes off the walls as he walks through the living room and to the front door and Jared shakes his head, smiling. Sometimes Jensen can be such a –

It feels like a freight train ran straight into the building. The impact has Jared staggering and the pot he’d been stirring falls off the stove, splattering tomato sauce all over the front of the ugly apron Jensen insists he wears while cooking. He stares down at it, globs of red running down and dripping on the floor, joining the puddle of hot sauce spreading in front of his feet. He hardly registers the heat soaking through his thick socks at the toes, his mind still frozen on, ‘What the hell _was_ that?’ until suddenly he jerks out of his stupor and turns around, eyes wide. “Jensen?”

He slips in the mess in his hurry, spreading smears of red sauce on the light brown tiles. Cursing under his breath he rips off the apron and throws it to the side as he yells, “Jensen! Jen! You okay?” and runs out into the hall.

The first thing he sees is Jensen, sitting straight-legged on the floor like the force of the impact had flung him backwards, his eyes fixed on the door. The next thing he registers is the person standing in the doorway. She looks…

Oh. Oh fuck.

He turns his back on her, that wretched shaking being staring at him like he’s the intruder, and crouches by Jensen’s side, trying to see any signs of awareness in his eyes. There are none. They’re as blank as an unwritten page; pupils shot so wide Jared can see his own reflection clearly framed within the thin circles of the irises.

“Jensen? Jensen, can you hear me? Oh Jesus!” Jared rubs a hand over his face. There’s tomato sauce on his thumb and it smears on his forehead. “Don’t do this, please. Jen?”

“Who…?” the woman starts but Jared throws up his hand, shutting her up without turning his head. If he looks at her he might hit her.

“You’ve got some nerve just showing up here,” he says instead. His voice shakes, he’s so angry. “Some goddamn nerve.” He can feel Jensen’s heartbeat under the palm of his hand, fast and erratic. His skin is pale, sweaty. His eyes skitter all over the place, unseeing and frantic. Wherever he is it’s not good.

“Jensen? Come on,” Jared pleads, shaking Jensen before pulling him to his chest, wrapping his arms around the rigid form and closing his eyes as he tries to figure out what to do. “Okay, okay,” he whispers. “Let’s just get you to bed. It’s gonna be alright. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

For once Jensen is not pliant. Jared hauls him to his feet but he wont move, knees locked in place, back stiff. In the end Jared picks him up, staggering a little under the weight before slowly making his way to the bedroom. He lays Jensen on the bed and then just stands there, gazing down at him. He wants to crawl in and wrap his arms around Jensen, whispering stupid things into his ear until he wakes up. Until he comes back.

“Where are you?” he asks and Jensen whimpers, a soft keening sound that has Jared’s stomach turning. He has to get him out of there but he doesn’t know how and everything is just fucked to hell!

He storms out of the room and to the front door, halting in his steps when he finds it closed and no sign of Jensen’s mother. For a moment he stands bewildered but then he hears a noise from the kitchen and that’s where he finds her, cleaning tomato sauce off the floor. The pasta has been pulled off the stove and drained, and now it rests steaming in the bowl Jared had already put aside for it.

“What are you doing? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He spits the words out, so angry, so goddamn furious he’s shaking. He wants to hit her and the realization angers him even more, that she has done that to him. He’s never hit a woman in his life, never hit anyone really, but her he wants to hurt. Wants to smack the stupid and the arrogant and the goddamn nerve of her coming here right off her face.

“It was boiling over,” she says, like that’s what he meant when they both know he doesn’t care one shit about the food or the mess. She straightens up and rinses the rag in the sink before turning around and facing him. She looks old, thin and grey with more lines in her face than Jared’s own mother and father combined. “It’s Jared, isn’t it?” she asks. She sounds tense, like she wants to disapprove but doesn’t dare. Jared doesn’t really care one _shit_ what she thinks.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, ignoring her question. “What the fuck were you thinking, just showing up like that?”

“He’s my son…” she starts and Jared can’t help it, he takes a step forward, fists raised, and she abruptly shuts up.

“You…” He stops, breathing heavily, then he starts again, each word gritted out between clenched teeth. “He may be your son but you are _not_ his mother.”

She flinches at that, stepping back and glancing around uncertain before looking back at him. “I never meant to hurt him,” she says defiantly and Jared stares at her, completely gobsmacked.

“You what?” he says. “Are you…? Fucking Christ!”

Her face turns red and she opens her mouth as if to object, his profanity no doubt, but then she closes it again, lips a thin red line in her face.

“I can’t deal with you now,” Jared says and turns away. “I need to take care of Jensen.”

She makes a small noise that has him stopping in his tracks. “Is he going to be all right?” she asks in a timid voice.

He turns around and glares at her. “What do you care?” he asks back. “Why the hell are you even here?”

“I…” She swallows. “I needed to see him.”

“Why?”

She stands silent for a moment but then she raises her eyes to face him. She looks even older than before. Like all her sins are finally catching up with her, dragging her down. “I have cancer,” she says.

If she expected sympathy Jared doesn’t really have any. “That’s why you’re here?” he asks, incredulous. “To what, accuse him of making you sick like you accused him of killing his own goddamn father?”

She flinches. “No! I told you, I wanted to see him. He’s my son and I… I just wanted to see him again if I…” She hesitates then reluctantly admits, “And I thought... I thought maybe he could do something.”

Jared stares at her, too appalled for words. Finally he just turns around and leaves her standing there, pale and trembling with broken pride.

Jensen hasn’t moved from where Jared left him. If anything he looks even deeper sunken into whatever pit seeing his mother had thrown him in. Jared sits down on the bed and lays a hand on Jensen’s forehead. He’s warm and sweaty and when Jared touches his fingertips to Jensen’s throat he can feel the pulse there, beating frantically.

“I’m sorry,” he says even if he doubts Jensen can hear him. “Fuck, Jen, I’m so sorry.”

He can hear Jensen’s mother out in the living room. He doesn’t know what she’s doing, why she doesn’t just leave, but at the moment he must focus on Jensen, on getting him out of whatever Hell he’s trapped in.

He wrestles the phone out of the pocket of his jeans with his left hand, the right one never leaving Jensen. He strokes Jensen’s hair, rubs a thumb over his lips, lays his palm softly against his cheek. Anything to let Jensen know he’s there.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Chris says cheerfully and Jared closes his eyes.

“You have to get here,” he says, his voice sounding shamefully small and helpless. This is supposed to be his job now but it’s only been a year and he just... Chris is the expert. Chris knows so much more than he does. “She just rang the goddamn door bell and… Fuck, he’s gone, man. He just disappeared to wherever, I don’t know, and I can’t get him out. Jesus Christ, Chris, you gotta help me.”

“Jared,” Chris says bewildered, “what the hell are you…?” He stops and Jared can hear him suck in his breath. “His _mother_?”

“Yes! She’s here and he just froze. He looks bad, man. Really, really bad. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m on my way,” Chris tells him and hangs up.

Jared drops the phone on the bed. There’s confusion and fear and grief running circles in his head and he doesn’t know if they are his own feelings or Jensen’s, and if so, if Jensen is trying to connect with him or if it’s just bleeding out from him, all those emotions he’s not allowed to have.

“I’m here, Jen. I’m right here,” Jared whispers and Jensen starts to shake. He shakes and shakes, like he’s having a seizure, then he starts gasping, sucking in air like he’s drowning. The echoing gasp from the doorway has Jared twisting around. Jensen’s mother is standing there, hand over her mouth, eyes as wide as saucers.

Jared snaps. “ _What_?” He stands up from the bed and stalks toward her, feeling grimly satisfied when she backs away, clearly intimidated. “You want to see? You want to see what you’ve done to him?” He throws out his arm, offering her a better view. “Take a good look at your masterpiece.”

“I didn’t…” she tries weakly but he has no patience for her excuses.

“You left him in that place. He was there for _two years_! Like this! Trapped in nightmares that will make whatever Hell you’re going to seem like goddamn Sunday school. Two years without his music, without colors, without anyone who cared for him. Two. Fucking. Years!”

“Don’t…” she says, her face crumbling, but he doesn’t listen. Doesn’t care how she feels because she’s got _no right_!

“You want to hear how they had to force feed him because he was too out of it to realize he needed to eat? How he almost drowned in the shower because he fell asleep with his mouth open? Or how about when some sick bastard practically _raped_ him and he just let it happen because he thought he was going to die anyway?”

“Please,” she sobs, tears running down her face. “Stop talking. Please…”

“And you know the worst part?” Jared laughs coldly. “The worst part is he doesn’t even blame you! Because even now, after everything you did to him, he still loves you. _That’s_ how fucked up he is.”

“Stop.” The quiet voice cuts through his anger and he turns around to see Jensen awake, eyes bleary and slightly unfocused. He’s still shaking, breath coming in small hitches like he’s fighting his panic, and there’s a sheen to his face, making him look sickly pale. “Please. Don’t.”

“Jensen,” Jared and Jensen’s mother both say in unison but it’s Jared that rushes to Jensen’s side and it’s Jared who grabs Jensen’s hand and pulls it to his chest.

“You okay?” he asks but Jensen pulls away from him, eyes darting to the door, and then he reaches out with his hand and whispers, “Mom?”

She gives a small broken sound, hand over her mouth, and then she runs out of the room, the scent of her left floating in the air like smoke over water. Jensen’s face crumbles, his hand falling limp on the bed beside him.

“Jen…” Jared says but Jensen won’t look at him.

“Why did you do that?” he asks brokenly, sounding so tired and so lost it makes Jared’s chest tighten painfully. “Why did you tell her all that?”

Jared winces, his face flushing red. “You heard. How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” Jensen’s fingers curl into fists, clenched by his side. “You lied. I wasn’t… That didn’t happen!”

Jared closes his eyes briefly before setting them on Jensen’s pale face, his empty eyes, wishing he’d please look at him. “Jensen… Come on,” he says quietly. “I know you don’t want to believe it but we both know…”

Jensen shakes his head violently. “No. You can’t just… You can’t just _assume_! If I can’t remember how the hell can you? You can’t! Because it _didn’t happen_!”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” Jared tries but Jensen won’t listen.

“There’s nothing to talk about! _Nothing_ happened! I told you…!”

“You talk, ok?” Jared cuts in. “You talk in your sleep. When you’re… When you get lost. Sometimes. You talk.” Jared looks away. He never meant to tell. “You didn’t want it. Not that. You think you don’t remember but a part of you does. And that part… that part said no.”

Jensen lies absolutely still. Jared stares at the floor. He feels like shit.

“I have to talk to my mom,” Jensen finally says and struggles to sit up.

“Jensen…” Jared tries, reaching for his hand but Jensen jerks it away.

“Not now,” he says coldly. “Preferably not ever but _definitely_ not now.”

He gets up, swaying for a moment before he walks out on shaky legs, leaving Jared to stare at the space he left. Just for a moment and then he’s stumbling to his feet as well and hurrying after Jensen. Even if he might not want Jared there this isn’t something he should have to face alone.

Jensen’s mother is sitting on the couch, head in her hands. She’s shaking like a leaf. Jensen is already by her side, arm around her shoulders like the past ten – hell, twenty – years never happened. The concerned look on his face, the love and the unabashed hope shining in his eyes is like a kick to Jared’s heart.

“Mom?” Jensen is saying, voice low and soft. “Mom? I’m sorry.”

Jared wants to slap him. Wants to pull him up from the couch and away from her. Wants to shake him and ask him, “What is _wrong_ with you? She did this to you. Why are you even talking to her?”

“Mom, please,” Jensen says brokenly and she gives a choked sound, like she can’t breathe so close to him.

“Is it true?” she sobs. “What he said, is it true?”

Jensen closes his eyes, his chest heaving with every slow breath. “Yes,” he finally says and she jerks in his arms. “I don’t know. I can’t remember everything but…” He raises his head, looking up at Jared with a lost expression in his eyes. “I think, yes. Probably.”

Jared has never hated himself as much as in that moment. He wants to touch Jensen, to hug him and kiss him and tell him he’s sorry. That he never meant to say it. That they don’t really know. That maybe Jensen is right. Maybe nothing did happen. Maybe he can’t be hurt, not even when he’s so popped on pills he can’t feel a guy sucking him off. Maybe… But he does talk. Sometimes. And the things he says have been killing Jared for months.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” She’s sobbing, her thin body shaking with it. “My boy. My baby.”

And just like that Jensen breaks. His face crumbles, mouth opening as he fights for his breath and then the tears filling his eyes overflow until they’re running down his face. “Mama,” he sobs as his whole body starts to shake and he folds in on himself until he’s curled up in her lap, her withered hands stroking his hair as she whispers, “Sshh, sshh, it’s okay” and “I’m here now.”

Jared walks out.

He stands waiting in the hallway outside the elevator for Chris to arrive, smoking one cigarette after another even if he hasn’t had a drag since high school and has been pestering Jensen to throw out these, Chris’s old leftovers, for weeks. When the elevator finally pings opens to cast out a frantic Chris all he needs is one look at Jared and his lips go thin.

“Where are they?” he asks through clenched teeth.

“Living room,” Jared mutters. “They’re… Goddamn fuck!”

His fist hits the wall with a fury that he hadn’t even realized had been building in his chest. The cigarette snaps in two, ashes and embers raining down on the linoleum.

“He told her he was sorry! _Him!_ And he’s in there, crying in her arms while she tells him everything is okay because ‘mommy’s here.’ God! What the hell is _wrong_ with him?”

Chris’s nostrils flare as he sucks in his breath. He’s pale, with red dots in his cheeks like he can’t make up his mind whether to be scared or angry. “Fuck.” He pushes the door open and stalks into the apartment, Jared following on his heels. They both come to a stand still in the living room, watching mother and son clinging to each other on the couch.

“Jensen,” Chris says. The tone is gentle but his voice is shaking with repressed anger. “Hey, Jensen,” he repeats. “What’s going on?”

“My mama,” Jensen sobs. “She found me.”

He sounds so grateful, voice bright and happy like a child’s, and Jared grabs Chris’s arm as he steps forward, fists rising.

“Jensen,” Chris repeats. “Jensen, she can’t just… She doesn’t deserve you,” he forces out between gritted teeth.

Jensen shakes his head. “Don’t say that. She’s my mom. My mama.” He looks up at her, eyes filled with gratitude. “She came back for me.”

His mother smiles, tightening her arms around him as she presses a kiss to his temple. Jensen hitches his breath, his face crumbling again, and she starts rocking him in her arms, whispering soothing words into his ear.

Chris opens his mouth, looking furious, but Jared subtly shakes his head and pulls Chris by the arm out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Chris wrenches free from his grip then leans upon the kitchen counter, breathing heavily, his face red with anger. “I want to kill her,” he finally hisses. “Did you see how she…? That _bitch_!”

Jared nods, face grim. “She’s sick,” he tells him. “Cancer. That’s the only reason she’s here. She probably thinks he can cure her.”

If anything Chris looks even more furious at that. He bangs his fist into the counter then turns around and stalks back to the living room. “Jensen,” he says, his voice eerily calm. “Can I talk to you?”

“No,” Jensen says stubbornly. “I’m busy with my mama.”

Chris frowns, the angry look in his eyes making way for worry. “Jensen? Hey, buddy, look at me.” But Jensen just shakes his head, burying his face in his mother’s crisp white blouse.

She looks up then, eyeing them warily. “Can’t you leave us alone? Who are you anyway?”

Chris ignores her. “Jensen,” he says, voice turned soft and warm. “Hey, Jen. How old are you?”

“Eleven,” Jensen replies impatiently but then he frowns and goes still. “No,” he says slowly. “I’m…” He looks up, eyes wide with confusion. “Chris?”

His mother is staring at Chris, shocked. He gives her a thin smile. “Yeah, Jensen,” he says. “You alright?”

Jensen looks around, seeming uncertain, and then he pulls out of his mother’s tight embrace and stands up. He doesn’t look at her, not even when she reaches out for him, calling his name. “Where’s Jared?” he asks in a shaky voice and Jared steps into view from the doorway.

“Here. I’m right here.”

Jensen’s face goes slack with relief and he walks straight into Jared’s waiting arms. Jared pulls him in tight, resting his chin on top of Jensen’s head. He can feel him trembling.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. Jensen shakes his head and Jared pulls him in tighter. “Tell me what you need,” he whispers. Jensen just shakes his head again but Jared can feel his hands twitching where they clutch at his waist. “You want to go play? It’s alright, you can.” He can feel Jensen hesitate so he adds, “Go on, I’ll take care of everything.”

Jensen nods then presses his nose into Jared’s ear and whispers, “I got a little lost,” against the slope of his neck.

Jared blinks as his vision goes momentarily blurry. “I know,” he whispers back, voice slightly hoarse. “It’s okay.”

“But she’s real?” The question is quiet, fearful, with Jensen’s face still pressed into Jared’s neck as if he’s afraid to look. Jared wants to tell him no, that she’s just a figment of his imagination and she’ll be gone when he comes back but he can’t.

“Yeah, she is. It’s okay. Don’t worry, we’ll sort things out.”

Jensen nods. He tightens his hold briefly around Jared’s waist before letting go and stepping back. Then he turns around and walks out of the room, never looking his mother’s way. They all stay silent until they hear the door to the piano room close. After a while what sounds like a rickety version of an old lullaby starts to play.

  
[Brahms: Wiegenlied Op. 49/4 / Peter Nagy](http://www.besserwiss.com/felisblanco/09%20Wiegenlied%20\(%27Guten%20Abend%2c%20gut%20Nac.m4a)

Jared breathes out. “Well,” he says, “that was close.” He glances over at Chris. “Still might go either way. We better check on him soon.”

Chris nods. He still looks furious, eyes shooting daggers at the woman who sits frozen on the couch, staring at them.

“What just happened?” she asks, seeming completely bewildered. “What is wrong with him?”

Chris clenches his fist but Jared lays a hand on his arm, holding him back. “He has trouble handling strong emotions. Especially negative ones. He goes off track, that’s all.”

“But he was happy to see me,” she protests, sounding a little hurt.

Chris barks a laugh, lips set into a sneer. “The little kid Jensen was happy to see you because you’re his fucking mama. The adult Jensen however freaked out and ran away because he couldn’t deal with all the fucking emotions you suddenly showing up here brought up in him.”

If anything she only looks more confused. And a little frightened. “He’s schizophrenic?”

Chris throws up his hands. “I can’t do this,” he growls and walks out. Jared hears him in the kitchen, opening the fridge and then popping open a beer. Jared wants nothing more than to follow him. A beer sounds good right about now. Or perhaps something a little stronger. Like a whole bottle of tequila. Instead he turns back to Jensen’s mother and wonders how he’s supposed to explain Jensen to the one person who should know him best but never really did.

“No, he’s not schizophrenic,” he sighs. “He’s just layered.”

She just blinks, clearly not understanding the difference.

“Look,” Jared says, “you coming here like this… It’s probably the worst thing you could have done. It was selfish and arrogant and I wish it had been me opening that door because I would have slammed it in your face. But the damage is done and now we have to try and help him deal with it. And the first step is you leaving.” He cuts her off when she opens her mouth to argue. “If and when he wants to talk you, he’ll contact you. Not the other way around. You don’t call any shots here, do you understand?”

“He’s my son!” she bristles, red dots blossoming in her cheeks. “Who the hell do you think you are to…”

“I’m the one who is going to take care of him long after you leave,” Jared tells her coldly. “Or die. Whichever comes first.” He ignores her flinch. “He trusts me to look after his heart. That’s what I’m doing. I’m not going to let you break it. Not again.”

“His heart?” she repeats stunned. “What are you saying? Is he...?” Jared stays silent, watching her with his eyebrows raised, and he can see the moment it registers. “Oh,” she says, face paling. “He’s...? You’re...”

“I’m his husband.”

Jared’s left thumb rubs unconsciously at the underside of the ring that still feels so amazingly new and wonderful. And heavy, like all his love for Jensen is anchored in that small piece of silver. Her shocked eyes are drawn to his hand and he quells the urge to flaunt it. Just wave it in her face like a red flag of petty defiance.

“You can’t be married,” is what she finally says. “You’re... It’s not even legal!”

“Funny thing that,” Jared says, mockingly casual. “We took a trip to Canada, visiting my dad. It’s a beautiful country. Very friendly. They don’t care who you love.”

He expects her to sneer, to say something about how God cares or that they’re damned to Hell. Something. Instead her shoulders just slump, face settling in what Jared can only deem as reluctant acceptance.

“So that’s it then?” she asks flatly. “This is what it all came down to?” She purses her lips. “I guess I should have seen it coming. It wasn’t normal how attached he was to you. And how you idolized him.”

“I loved him,” Jared corrects her even if the other thing isn’t exactly untrue. “Because he was my friend. And the most amazing person I’d ever met. He still is.”

“You were always such an idealist, even then,” she says but it doesn’t sound condescending, just resigned. “You never saw anything but good in him.”

“Because there never _was_ anything but good in him,” Jared tells her irritated. “There still isn’t. How can you not see that?”

But she just shakes her head. “He was a danger, to himself and others. He wasn’t in control of… of his problem. Still isn’t, obviously.”

Jared stares at her. “You just don’t get it, do you? You really have no idea what he is.”

Her lips go tight, a thin line of anger in her face. “I know what he’s not. He’s not the child I should have had. He’s not… He’s not _normal_.”

“No, he’s not,” Jared says, starting to lose his temper. “He’s magical. He’s a magical being, the only one in the whole wide world. _That’s_ what you had, what someone decided to _give_ to you and you just… You threw him away!”

She looks up at him, defiant. “I don’t know what he’s told you but it was his own decision, getting help. You can check if you want. He signed the papers himself.”

“You are incredible,” Jared says, staring at her in disbelief. “You actually believe that, don’t you? Jesus!”

She looks away, shaking her head stubbornly. “Nothing to believe. It’s right there on the dotted line. Check it.”

In the silence that follows Jared can hear Chris pop open another beer in the kitchen. He’s going to finish their meager stash if this goes on much longer.

“I think you should leave now,” Jared says, his voice strained with keeping calm. “Let me have your number. I’ll give it to Jensen when he feels better so he can decide what to do. But if he doesn’t want to see you then don’t you _ever_ come here again. I will physically throw you out if you try.”

She winces, looking like she wants to object for a moment but then she pulls a small notebook out of her purse, scribbling down her number before standing up. She looks small somehow, and not just because of how thin and grey she is.

“I know you think I’m some kind of monster,” she says defensively as she rips out the page and hands it over. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I did do everything wrong. But I did the best I could. I did what I thought was best for him. For everyone. It wasn’t easy, being his mother.”

Jared remembers Jensen talking along those same lines so long ago. ‘It’s not easy being related to me,’ he’d said. It’s an argument Jared’s heard many times since, from parents of teenagers struggling with all kinds of mental and physical problems, as well as from the kids themselves. One side defensive, the other ridden with guilt. And always that same anger, at a life they were not supposed to have and problems they shouldn’t have to deal with.

“Being his husband isn’t always easy either,” he says coldly. “But it’s worth it because he’s Jensen. And I love him.”

She looks away, pulling her coat tighter around her. “I’ll see myself out,” she says stiffly but as she brushes by him he grabs her arm, stopping her.

“He can’t cure you. It doesn’t work like that. So if that’s all you’re here for I suggest you walk out that door and we’ll pretend you being here never happened. Better deal with it now than later when he’s gotten his hopes up that maybe you’re here because you actually care about him.”

Her arm is thin and tense under his fingers. She won’t look up at him, just stares ahead with her jaw set tight and a twist to her lips like she’s fighting not to cry. “He’s my son,” she repeats stubbornly.

Jared sighs and lets go of her arm. “You keep saying that but you know what I haven’t heard you say? That you love him. You haven’t said once that you love him. Which means that him being your son doesn’t mean shit in my book.”

She looks startled, like she hadn’t even realized. “I… I do. Of course I do. He’s my…” She cuts herself off, looking away. “I do love him.”

“Don’t tell me, tell him. Tell Jensen.”

“He knows,” she says, as if it’s that simple.

Jared just looks at her. “No. He doesn’t. He really doesn’t. It’s been twelve years, Donna. You can’t expect him to just take you back with open arms after everything you said and did to him.”

She stands silent for a long time then says in a quiet voice, “I did come back for him, eventually, but he was already gone. I tried to find him but…” She shakes her head. “Mac only told me where he was last week. When she found out I was... sick.”

She takes a deep breath then looks up at him. “I know, too little and too late. But I do love him. He scares me, always has, but I still love him. I tried not to but... He is my son. I know you don’t understand why that is important but it is. Because no matter what happened and _will_ happen he is still a part of me. He always will be. And I will always be a part of him.”

Jared swallows. “Maybe, but for the last twelve years you’ve been the part of him that makes him miserable.” He glances pointedly out the window. “Like now.”

She follows his gaze, staring out at the rain lashing the windowpane. Then she pulls a small folded umbrella out of her purse, as if she’d expected as much. “I know,” she sighs. “You were always his sunshine and I was always his rain.” She pauses. “Thank you for that. For making him happy.”

Jared doesn’t know what to say. “We make each other happy,” he finally replies. It sounds lame and he’s relieved when she just nods and then she’s gone, closing the door softly behind her.

“She gone?” Chris says behind Jared, making him wonder how long he’s been there, listening. Not that he cares.

“Yeah,” he says, still gazing thoughtfully at the closed door.

“She coming back?”

Jared hesitates, then nods slowly. “I think so. If Jensen asks her to.”

Chris huffs, clearly still angry. “He wouldn’t turn her away even if she threw Bibles at him and called him a shitty little faggot, the stupid idiot.”

Jared rolls his eyes and turns around. Chris is leaning against the wall, beer in one hand. It would look casual enough if his knuckles weren’t white where they clutch the bottle and his jaw wasn’t set so tight Jared’s surprised he hasn’t bitten through the bottle neck.

“It never was about religion. Not really. I mean, sure,” he quickly adds when Chris opens his mouth to argue, “it figured into it but it wasn’t the main problem. Not after his grandma died anyway.”

Chris scowls but he doesn’t argue. “Whatever,” he says and shrugs. “You wanna go check on him or should I?” The tone is casual enough but he can’t hide his worry. It’s been almost a year since he moved out but they both know he’s still struggling with letting go.

“You go,” Jared tells him. “I think he’s pretty pissed at me.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “Something I should know about?”

Jared can feel himself blushing. “I got pretty mad at her. Told her some things I shouldn’t have. About what happened to Jensen in that place. He woke up in the midst of it.”

Chris blinks. “Crap.”

“Yeah.”

“You told her…?”

“Yeah.”

Chris sighs. “I’m not touching that with a ten feet pole, man. Gay sex, that’s entirely your department.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jared says sarcastic then sighs as he rubs a hand over his face. “Never expected you to anyway, jerk. But if you could just calm him down a bit, that would really help.”

Chris nods and hands Jared the empty beer bottle before heading to the piano studio. Jared hears him knock, three rapid knocks, then again, a little louder. When the music finally stops Jared breathes out in relief and walks into the kitchen. The pasta is cold in the bowl and the pot with what was left of the sauce stands in the sink. He sighs and starts cleaning up. He’s lost his appetite. If Jensen gets hungry later they can always order pizza.

Half an hour goes by before he hears the door open again. He’s in the living room, watching some nature program on Discovery Channel with the sound on mute. His heart sinks when he sees it’s Chris but then Jensen comes shuffling in on his heels, looking pale and shaken. He sinks down on the couch by Jared’s side and Jared puts his arm around him, pulling him close.

“You okay?” he asks in a low voice.

Jensen nods but then he changes his mind and shakes his head. “No, not really.” He shifts on the couch, pulling up his feet and leaning heavily into Jared’s side. They sit silent for a long time before Jensen clears his throat.

“It’s funny,” he says, casually enough if it wasn’t for the tremor in his voice, “I always thought that if I ever saw her again I would be able to stand up to her. That I would look her in the eye and tell her that… that she was wrong about me. Because she was.” He waits for Jared’s confirming nod before continuing, “Instead I just… Fuck, I don’t know. What the hell _was_ that?” He laughs shakily. “I feel so stupid.”

“She caught you off guard,” Jared dismisses. “Shocked the hell out of me seeing her so I can only imagine how you felt.”

Jensen shrugs, still not looking up at him. “She’s sick,” he says after a while. “I think it’s serious.”

Jared looks at him sharply. “She told you?”

“No. I could see it. Black spiders under her skin. Did she tell you?”

“Yeah.” Jared hesitates then adds, “It’s cancer.”

Jensen sucks in his breath but he doesn’t seem surprised. They fall back into silence. Jared can hear Chris in the kitchen, moving around, trying to make it sound like he’s busy even if they all know he’s just giving them privacy to talk. Outside it’s still raining but Jared isn’t sure if it’s Jensen’s doing or just the weather. It tends to rain quite a bit in New York at this time of year. Spring is just around the corner, something they’re both thankful for. Jared knows Jensen is itching to get his fingers into the ground, to get the earth growing again. The few potted plants they bought after Chris moved out really aren’t the same. Jared is thinking of maybe building a greenhouse up on the roof. It would give Jensen a couple of extra months to play around with his beloved plants, away from Chris’s allergies.

“Is that why she’s here?” Jensen suddenly asks in a small voice, his head still bowed. “Because she thinks I did something?”

Jared closes his eyes. God. If he had that woman here right now... He shakes his head, keeping his face as neutral as he can. “No.” He’s reluctant to say more but Jensen is still holding his breath, clearly waiting for an explanation so he grudgingly adds, “But I think she thinks maybe you can help her.”

“Oh.” Jensen blinks repeatedly, making the TV screen flicker. “But I can’t. I… Fuck.” He pinches his arm, jerking as the pain calls him back from wherever he was heading.

“I know,” Jared says worried, rubbing Jensen’s neck soothingly with his fingers. He hasn’t seen Jensen this bad since he’d finally moved to New York almost two years ago. And he’d hoped he’d never have to see it again because it scares the crap out of him. “I told her it didn’t work like that.”

Jensen nods. “That why she left?” he asks after a while. He sounds tired. Resigned.

Jared swallows. He pulls Jensen closer and presses his lips to his temple then just keeps them there, breathing through his nose into Jensen’s hair. “She left because I asked her to,” he finally admits. “But I have her number if you want to call her.” Jensen doesn’t say anything. “ _Do_ you want to call her?” Jared asks quietly.

Jensen shakes his head. “Not… not today. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want,” Jared tells him. “It’s ok.”

Jensen nods.

“And even if you don’t want to, that’s ok, too. You know that, right?” Jensen doesn’t answer and Jared sighs. “She lost any right she had to you many years ago, Jensen. Whatever happens from now on it’s on your terms.”

“I know.” Jensen finally raises his head. He looks tired, his skin pale and the freckles faded and grey. His eyes only meets Jared’s for a second before looking away again. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m kinda beat.”

Jared nods and kisses him on the forehead. “Yeah. Sure. Jensen?” he adds just as Jensen moves to get up. “About what I said...”

“Don’t.” Jensen shakes his head. “Not now.”

Jared swallows. “But we’re okay?”

Jensen gives him a quick tired smile. “We’ll always be okay,” he says and stands up. “You know that.”

Jared stays on the couch, listening to Jensen and Chris talk in the kitchen for a while before Jensen bids them both good night.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Jared calls out and Jensen gives him a little wave without turning his head as he passes on his way to their bedroom. Jared groans, rubbing one hand over his face. Man, he really screwed that up, didn’t he?”

“Don’t worry about it,” a voice says and he looks up to see Chris watching him concerned. “He’s not really angry. It’s just been a fucking awful day.”

“I never should have said it,” Jared says, feeling so damn guilty. “He’s right, we don’t know what happened.”

“I think we do,” Chris says quietly as he sits down beside Jared on the couch. “I don’t care how much in love with you he was, not even looking any other way for ten years? Man, that’s not normal. And he always got really defensive when I tried to pimp him out, like just the thought of anyone touching him like that other than you was just…” He stops and averts his eyes. “Well, he didn’t like it.”

Jared swallows. “Still, I had no right. Fuck, man. You should have seen his face when his mother asked him if it was true. He looked so lost. Like he had no clue how to deal with it.”

“But what did he say?” Chris asks. “When she asked him?”

Jared sits silent for a moment. Then he quietly admits, “He said yes. That it probably was.”

Chris’s eyes go wide. “Shit,” he breathes out.

“Yeah. Fuck!”

“Jared…”

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s all speculations, man. I don’t think he really knows what’s real and what isn’t, not when it comes to those years. So I just gave him this fucked up piece of memory that he can’t even deny because he doesn’t know.” Jared grinds the heels of his hands into his eyesockets. He’s getting one hell of a headache. “He’s got enough crap weighing him down without me dumping shit like that on him.”

Chris is silent for a long time before saying slowly, “On the other hand he hates when we keep stuff from him. Better he found out sooner rather than later.”

Jared sighs. “I don’t know. I can’t help thinking that maybe this is one thing we never should have brought up at all.”

After a long time of silence Chris pats him on the arm. “You should probably get in there before he falls asleep, just in case. You want me to stay the night? It’s no trouble.”

Jared shakes his head. “No, I think… I think this is something we have to deal with between just the two of us.” He looks up at Chris. “Thanks, man. For coming over.” He laughs shakily. “I totally freaked out. Fuck.”

“You kidding me?” Chris says grinning and slaps him on the back. “You were the cool one. I would have smacked her stupid face if you hadn’t held me back.”

Jared smiles a little. Chris beating up a woman seems as likely as Jensen getting a driver’s license. “Right. Except I had no idea he’d reverted like that,” Jared berates himself. “I would have just kept on being pissed at him, not realizing what was going on if you hadn’t pointed it out.”

“Nah, you would have caught on soon enough,” Chris says. “I mean, when have you ever heard him call her mama?”

Jared thinks. “Never when he’s awake. But when he’s asleep… Sometimes. He cries for her.”

Chris’s jaw tightens. “God, I hate that woman.” He sighs then lays his hand on Jared’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before standing up. “Call me, ok?”

“I will. And thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Jared sits still for a while after the front door closes then gets up with a sigh. He can feel Jensen’s turmoil of emotions like a fist around his heart, squeezing it. It makes it hard to breathe.

He stops by the bathroom, peeing and brushing his teeth before crossing the hall to their bedroom. The lights are off and Jensen has his back turned to the door, feigning sleep. If it was anyone else Jared might fall for it but the distinct lack of magic in the room makes it obvious Jensen is awake. Jared doesn’t call him on it though but gets undressed and slips under the covers, lying on his back for a moment staring at the ceiling before rolling over and laying a hand on Jensen’s hip. His palm tingles when it touches Jensen’s skin but that is all the reaction he gets.

“You mad at me?” Jared asks quietly.

“No,” Jensen says curtly then sighs and Jared can feel him relax a little. “It’s just a lot to take in, her being here and…”

He goes quiet again and Jared rubs a thumb over the grove of his hipbone, waiting for him to continue. It’s still raining outside, the drops running down the glass window distorting the lights from the nearby buildings.

“What do I say?” Jensen suddenly asks. “You said I talk in my sleep about... What do I say?”

Damn. “It’s nothing,” Jared dismisses lightly. “Seriously, I overreacted.”

“Jared,” Jensen says, his voice quiet but firm, “tell me.”

Jared closes his eyes. Of all the things that happened to Jensen this is what he’s had most trouble dealing with. His only consolation has been that when awake Jensen hasn’t seemed bothered at all by what his subconsciousness is dealing with. Not that Jared’s a big fan of repressing emotions or memories but when it comes to Jensen he can’t help thinking that enough is enough. How much can one person be expected to deal with? And then he fucks it all up by opening his big mouth.

“Jared?” Jensen repeats but this time his voice is hesitant, almost fearful, like not knowing is making him imagine the worst.

“Mostly you ask him to stop,” Jared tells him quietly. “And I don’t know if that means you did and he didn’t or if it’s just something you wish you had said and that’s why you’re doing it now.”

Jensen nods slowly. “But I don’t…?” He swallows. “That’s all?”

Jared hesitates. He lets his hand slide down until it’s resting on Jensen’s stomach and pulls him closer. He can feel Jensen’s belly moving like waves under his palm, tense and frightened. “That’s all,” he lies. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Jensen breathes out. “I don’t remember,” he whispers. “I can’t remember what happened after he…” He sucks in his breath. “People can’t hurt me,” he says, more to himself it seems than Jared, “so if… I must have been okay with it.”

Jared squeezes his eyes shut, burying his nose in Jensen’s hair. “I’m sure you’re right,” he murmurs, lump in his throat. “We shouldn’t worry about it.”

Jensen nods. His breathing gets more relaxed and after a while he lays his hand over Jared’s on his stomach, braiding their fingers together. “So,” he says lightly, “my mom, huh?”

Jared can’t help tensing. “Yeah.”

“Twelve years.” Jensen laughs shakily. “Twelve years and she just shows up like…” He cuts himself off abruptly, leaving the room vibrating with silence.

Jared waits for him to continue but the minutes tick by and there’s nothing. He’s starting to doze off when he feels Jensen pull in a deep breath before going completely still again. Jared hesitates then presses his lips to Jensen’s neck. His skin is hot and sweaty and his pulse is beating frantically. Jared raises himself up and nudges Jensen’s cheek with his nose. It comes away wet.

“Jen,” he says softly, his heart aching, “it’s ok. Just cry.”

Jensen doesn’t answer, just turns his head so his face is pressed into the pillow. After a long period of painful inhales and silent exhales he finally starts to relax and then his breathing evens out until he’s snoring softly through a stuffed nose.

Jared lies awake, watching as the room changes. He shouldn’t be surprised when he sees it’s the backyard of Jensen’s childhood home but it still hits him hard that this is where Jensen goes after all he’s been through today. The Jensen in his arms sleeps on but under the old oak tree ten-year-old Jensen sits with his arm around his little sister, reading out loud to her fairytales of princes and princesses that all live happily ever after. Their parents sit on a blanket nearby, soaking in the sun and smiling at their children’s laughter. Jared can’t help wondering if it’s a real memory Jensen is playing in his head or if it’s the way he wishes his childhood had been. He keeps watching until his eyes slip shut and he falls asleep, mere minutes before the illusion starts to shimmer and change.

 

~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~:~♫~

 

_“Heal me,” she says. Her eyes are empty, her cheeks hollow and grey. Her skin is covered in fat leeches that are sucking her dry.  
“I can’t.” He’s crying, the tears in his eyes making the whole room blurry. “Mom, I can’t.”  
“You mean you won’t,” she snaps. “Don’t lie to me.”  
Jared appears, staring at him in shock. “You won’t heal your own mother? What kind of monster are you?”  
“Jared…” Jensen begs, reaching out for him, but Jared turns away in disgust and walks out, taking with him all the colors and all the music. The room falls into grey silence, the air thick with fog and the smell of rotten leaves.  
Jensen’s mother laughs. “Guess that leaves just you and me, sweetie. And I’m dying.” She laughs and laughs as her hair falls off and her skin melts away until all that’s left are bones and blood and the echo of her laughter._

Jensen slams his eyes open, gasping for breath. Fighting to get free from the covers he finally rolls off the bed and stumbles to the bathroom.

“Jensen?” he hears Jared’s sleepy voice mumble. “You okay?”

Jensen opens his mouth to answer and promptly throws up all over the bathroom floor before he even has time to slam the toilet open.

“ _Jensen_? What’s…? Oh shit.”

Jensen blurry gaze tries to focus on Jared where he’s standing in the doorway, seeming completely at loss.

“You’re _sick_?” Jared blurts out, voice edged with fear.

Jensen quickly shakes his head, even if it makes him want to throw up all over again. “Nightmare. ‘M okay.” He tries to stand up and his knees won’t work. There’s vomit splattered on his legs, his arms. The room stinks of it. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Wait! Stay there. I’m gonna… Stay!”

Jensen slumps down again, closing his eyes. He’s shaking, sweat rapidly cooling on his goosebumped skin, and he can’t shut off the echo of his mother’s laughter in his ears.

“Can you get into the shower? Jensen?”

He nods, forcing his eyes open and then crawling into the shower. His feet leave a trail in the mess. “Don’t. Jared…” he sighs when he realizes Jared is holding a mop and a bucket. “Just give me a minute and I’ll...”

“Don’t make me come in there and kick your ass for being stupid,” Jared chastens him mildly. “You want me to turn on the water for you? Or you can wait until I’m done here. It will only take a minute.”

Jensen nods and closes his eyes, hoping the whole thing won’t feel as humiliating if he doesn’t watch. When that doesn’t work he turns on the music in his head to block out the sounds of Jared mopping up his mess and then just sits there, slumped against the tiles, waiting. After a while he’s roused by someone taking him by the arms and then he’s being hauled to his feet.

“Dude, you stink,” Jared murmurs into Jensen’s ear as he wraps his arms around him. “And we didn’t even eat dinner. Where the hell did you get all that from?”

“Big lunch,” Jensen mumbles. His cheeks are burning and he feels about three feet tall. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Jared says softly and moves to turn the shower on. Cold water crashes down on them and Jensen jerks violently from the shock, Jared’s hand only just slipping behind his head before it hits the wall. “Sshh. Sorry. It will heat up in a minute.”

Jensen nods, teeth clattering. He lays his head on Jared’s shoulder, cheek pressed into the bow of his collarbone, and lets it all wash over him. The cold water, slowly heating. The fear; for his mother, himself, them. The guilt he isn’t sure where’s coming from.

“What was it?” Jared asks quietly. “Your dream?”

“Mom.” He swallows. “She died.”

Jared exhales, as if he’d been expecting something even worse. “You think it was a premonition?”

“Not unless she’s gonna die from massive radiation exposure,” Jensen says with a grimace. “Like, fullblown post-apocalyptic nuclear war zombie falling-to-pieces shit.”

Jared winces. “Oh. Fuck. No wonder you puked.”

Jensen shrugs. It’s not the worst dream he’s had, not by far, and he expects the only reason he reacted so violently was because of the circumstances.

He lets Jared wash his hair, keeping his eyes closed the whole time. He doesn’t even protest when Jared grabs the soap and continues washing the rest of him. He feels detached, half of him still stuck in the remnants of his dream, the other half thinking of his mother. Where is she now? Did she already have a hotel room or had she hoped she could stay with them? How is she feeling? Is she in pain? Is she thinking of him?

Where has she been the last twelve years?

The water shuts off and then Jared is manhandling him out of the shower and wrapping him up in one of their big towels.

“You think you can sleep some more?” Jared asks as he quickly towels himself dry then turns to Jensen, rubbing the damp towel over his wet hair. It reminds Jensen of being five years old and his mother roughly drying him off after this bath, irritated over the wet footprints he’d left down the hall from the bathroom to his room, because he was looking for his submarine. The memory has him sighing and Jared gives him a concerned look. “Jensen? You okay?”

“Yeah. Sleep, sure.” Jensen nods dully. “What time is it?” he mumbles.

“I don’t know. Four maybe.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Come on.”

They stumble into the bedroom and Jared pushes Jensen gently down on the bed and tugs him in before going back to the bathroom. Jensen can hear him move around, probably drying the floor and hanging up the towels to satisfy Jensen’s anal-retentiveness. He should tell Jared to just leave it because for once he doesn’t care, but that means he has to open his mouth to talk and he doesn’t really want to.

Finally Jared comes back and slips into bed, wrapping his arms around Jensen and resting his chin upon his shoulder. They lie in silence, Jensen still with his eyes closed and Jared breathing into his ear.

“Have you ever tried healing someone?” Jared suddenly asks. “I mean from other than headaches and hangovers?”

Jensen hesitates. “Mac had a rabbit once,” he says finally. “It got sick and she asked me to…” He stops, remembering the limp form in his hands, so soft and warm and dead, dead, dead. “It didn’t work,” he finishes curtly.

“Nothing happened?”

He laughs shakily. “Oh, something happened all right. Just not…” He swallows. “You know those beanie toys? It was like that. Bones and meat and blood floating in a bag of skin.” He feels sick just thinking about it. “I don’t think she ever forgave me.”

Jared shifts closer, lips pressing into Jensen’s neck. “Sounds horrible. How old were you?”

Jensen shrugs. “Eight maybe? Not sure. I remember I was still in school.”

Jared hums thoughtfully. “You’re not eight anymore, Jen,” he says slowly. “Do you think…”

Jensen jerks away, horrified. “No! No, I can’t, Jared. What if I…?” He shudders, imagining his mother in a heap on the floor, like a human beanie bag. “No.”

“Okay,” Jared tells him soothingly. “Just wondering.”

He’s silent for a while but Jensen can feel him thinking, swirls of thoughts and emotions going round in circles in his head. It makes Jensen nervous because he has no idea what they are.

“When you do the hangovers, what are you thinking?” Jared asks after a while. “I mean, do you focus on a special emotion or a special part of the body?”

Jensen frowns. He’s never really thought about it. “I’m not sure. I just find the bad feelings and… absorb them or dissolve them, maybe? It’s hard to explain. But it only works on small stuff like that. I tried it on Chris’s flu once and he ended up even sicker so… No. I can’t risk it.”

“Hmm.”

Again Jensen tries to read Jared’s feelings but they’re too jumbled, old apples and fresh oranges on a bed of wet leaves. And even if he knows better he can’t help worrying that _that_ part of his dream was right, about Jared judging him.

“You think I should at least try,” he says wary when the silence proves too much for him.

“What?” Jared says, sounding bewildered. “No. Jesus, Jensen, of course not.”

He swallows. “You don’t think… You don’t think I’m bad for not even trying?”

“No.” Jared pulls back, tugging on Jensen’s shoulder until he rolls over on his back so they can see each other. “That’s not why I asked,” he says, voice serious. “I asked because I know you. And it’s what you’ll be thinking anyway. So I just… I wanted you to say it out loud, why it’s not possible. Because then maybe you’ll believe it. I mean, I could tell you you’re right but it’s not about what I think, it’s about what you know to be true, even if you doubt yourself.”

Jensen looks up at him, blinking slowly. “Oh,” he says. He tends to forget how good Jared is at reading people. Even more so now he’s back at college, taking another shot at the whole psychology thing. He sometimes can’t help feeling Jared is studying him, like he’s the ultimate project, the kind of weirdo any psychologist would kill to get their hands on to psychoanalyze. It doesn’t exactly bother him as much as it worries him. What if Jared finds what it is that makes Jensen tick and it’s so bad he realizes he can’t do this anymore?

“Jensen?” Jared looks down at him, obviously worried. “You know I’ll stand by you no matter what you do, right? Whether you decide to see her again or not. I’ll support you all the way.”

Jensen smiles. “That’s how I knew it was only a nightmare,” he says and brushes his knuckles over Jared’s cheek.

Jared frowns. “Oh? Why?”

“Because in my dream you walked away.”

Jared looks at him, like he doesn’t quite know what to say. Then he rolls his eyes and leans over, giving Jensen a quick kiss on the nose. “Your head is a stupid place sometimes,” he tells him with a smile.

Jensen can’t really argue with that but he gives Jared a small glare just the same. Which would have been a lot more impressive if he hadn’t yawned at the same time. Jared grins and calls him an old man then snuggles down, one arm around Jensen’s waist and a long leg thrown over his. Jensen closes his eyes.

_He dreams of a desolate graveyard and Jared by his side, clasping his hand so tight it hurts. The ground is covered in red and yellow leaves and somewhere far away a raven croaks. The air smells of winter and Jensen’s heart feels as heavy as a stone. He looks up at Jared and Jared smiles sadly down at him. Jensen opens his mouth, about to ask, “Was it me? Did I…?” when he sees the specks of grey at Jared’s temple. He blinks, confused, and looks back down at the headstone in front of him. Oh. Oh!  
A smile breaks out on his face and the cemetery is instantly bathed in sunlight. Jared looks at him surprised but he’s never been able to resist Jensen’s smile and soon he’s smiling back, if a little bemused. He puts his arm around Jensen’s shoulders and pulls him in, burying his nose in Jensen’s hair and murmuring something Jensen can’t quite hear. It doesn’t really matter; he’ll get another chance to listen in about fifteen years.  
He turns away from the quartz spattered granite headstone glittering in the sunlight and together they walk through the cemetery, to wherever they live now. He’ll probably wake up before they get there but that’s all right. It’s no fun knowing everything that lies ahead.  
Guess he should call his mother. In a day or two. Or possibly twelve, that sounds like an appropriate amount of time. She has fifteen years left to get to know him, a few days waiting won’t hurt. Petty as it is, he figures it’s her turn.  
“We should call the guys,” he says. “Invite them over for dinner. Have a few drinks.”  
Jared looks at him, frowning a little. “Now?” he says carefully. “You know they’re...”  
“When I wake up,” Jensen hastens to clarify before Jared lets something slip they shouldn’t know.  
For a moment Jared looks confused but then his face brightens and he smiles. “Please tell me I’m still young and pretty,” he jokes, fingers coming up to touch the burst of grey at his temple.  
Jensen laughs. He stops and tugs at Jared’s hand, until he’s facing him, the cold breeze blushing his cheeks pink. Jared’s eyes are still as brilliant, his smile just as beautiful. “You’ll always be young and pretty to me,” Jensen says softly, reaching up to palm Jared’s cheek._

They’re still kissing when Jensen wakes up.

fin


End file.
